


caught

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Caught, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Making Out, Mutual dumbassery, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-04-22 00:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 16





	caught

Anathema tentatively knocked on the bookshop door and after hearing no response, simply decided to GO IN ANYWAY. After all, if anyone didn’t want her here, they should have locked the door. Their fault, really.  
She had been meaning to ask Aziraphale if he had any books on Occultism, or ancient witchcraft. She had long since wanted to fully learn about the predecessors of her craft, and the ways they navigated the Universe. Which was rather why she barged in so eagerly. She was, usually, at least a bit more polite, but Anathema decided not to bother with restricting social graces this time around.  
The bookshop seemed rather empty, and although she knew that Aziraphale preferred to just not interact with customers, he did usually make a point of staying by the desk during the shops odd opening hours, lest someone try to make-away with a first edition while he wasn’t looking. All of this seeming increasingly weird to Anathema, so naturally, she decided to have a look around.  
However, before she could go further than the main shop, she accidently knocked off a book from one of the small tables dotted around the room. She then heard hushed whispers, followed by hasty footsteps coming from the back room.  
Aziraphale emerged quickly, face flushed. Crowley soon followed suit, sauntering in to the main room as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Anathema took a moment before she could take in the sight of them. Aziraphale’s bowtie was undone, as were the top three buttons of his waistcoat, which was rumpled and creased. His hair was in the same style as his attire, messy and unruly. Aziraphale’s face was red, as, Anathema noticed, were his lips.  
Crowley, looked very much the same. His jacket was half falling off, his glasses left forgotten on some faraway table. His flaming red locks were all over the place, and he had a rather strange red mark on his neck.  
Realisation dawned on Anathema as she stared at the now-sheepish-looking men, Aziraphale frantically smoothing down his waistcoat and doing up his bowtie. Crowley, on the other hand, suddenly became very interested in a nearby label maker. The young witch decided to let her eyes rest and slowly brought her gaze to the floor. Except… Oh. My. God. Aziraphale’s trousers were tented. Oh, Dear Lord NO. With that thought she ran out of the bookshop, vowing to remember to ALWAYS CALL before she visited.  
Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged rather guilty looks before Aziraphale proceeded to flip the sign on the door to ‘CLOSED’, and lock the door.  
They walked back into the other room, echoes of “You said you’d lock the door”  
“No, you heard me say that and then YOU ATTACKED ME”  
“No need to be crude, my dear boy”  
“So what was it in your opinion? Huh?”  
“… a passionate hug…?”  
“Nice try, you’re locking the door next time”  
“*sigh*”  
“Uh-huh, have a little patience, Angel, it’s meant to be a Virtue”  
“Oh, hush, you”


End file.
